Satin Nights
by Lavanya Ray
Summary: She kills. She cheats. She lies. Yet she manages to look innocent and fresh. Bonnie Bennett is a an orphan, but she is not your average nice and sweet orphan. She does things that a normal girl would consider not-so-nice. Atticus Shane and Silas only make her realize how powerful she actually is. ShaneXBonnie, AU RATED M FOR SEXUAL SITUATIONS AND BLOOD.


**_A/N: So lovely beautiful people, I am back. With a brand new story._**

**_I just realized (while watching dead Bonnie with Jeremy) That I am in love with Kat Graham, and also the wicked Paul Wesley, and _****_I missed Shane_**. And I decided I must do something about it.

**_So people, presenting a dark and sexy Bonnie paired with Silas. This Bonnie kills, makes love with aggressively, and is a vampire(ish, because I am going to write about her transition). I hope you like her in her new avatar:) The first ten chapters are almost ready, they are not edited yet but I am doing my best to avoid the annoying mistakes myself. I will post three/four chapters every week, that is a promise. _**

**_Anyway, here you go..._**

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_~~PROLOGUE~~_

That evening was particularly downcast. The girl walked quickly on her way home. After a long day's work, she was completely drained. The idea of a hot mug of coffee with homemade cookies was making her mouth salivate. Hearing the clouds rumble in the sky with a suppressed anger inside them, she hastened. She had no umbrella, and if the sky started pouring now she had no means to protect the papers she was carrying. She adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and shivered as the wind turned colder with every step she took into the empty alley.

The alley headed to a small deserted wood, which was actually a backyard garden of a great old manor that originally belonged to the local aristocrats of the small town. The whole vicinity used to be their estate. This was an intriguing story she'd heard from her mother in her childhood. Her mother, Florence had told her how the family had ended with an awful tragedy, and the glorious era of the town came, to its end at the same time. The old tragic story was still to be heard from the old veteran people of the town and enthusiasts who loved researching on the lost history.

She looked at the dark contour of the castle with her large brown eyes. She had once trespassed into the castle in her childhood. What she found there was so amazing and extraordinary that she was both happy and uncomfortable. She was horrified, in fact, when for a short instance she viewed the most awesome thing in her life.

But it had happened ten long years back. After that small event, whenever she thought back about that afternoon she strictly convinced herself that whatever she saw inside the castle was a mere creation of her wild imagination. That was the only plausible logic she could come up with.

The heavy clouds rumbled once again, sending a chill to her bones. She faced upwards to observe the condition of the sky and received a tiny droplet of chilling cold water on her forehead. The tiny droplets soon turned into furious downpour, without allowing her to realize how much worse the situation had become.

"Shit," she murmured and looking around her she ran towards the nearby shed she found to save herself from the sudden cloudburst. She started cursing her friend for keeping her in the library for so long, and brushed her hair with her cold palms. She hated rain. The stubborn air sprayed the cold rainwater onto her body, as if it was the nature's conspiracy today to get her completely soaked. Her hatred increased uncontrollably. If only she could do something to get rid of the torrent.

A bolt of lightning slashed the sky into two halves. In a flash the vicinity looked as clearly as it did in the daylight. She lost her thread of thought and looked around distractedly. Her vision confused her the most, for the moment; she saw something, someone to be exact, standing on the porch of the lonely castle. Nobody in the small town ever dared to step in the castle even in merry bright daylight.

The next moment she was sure that she saw someone there. A tall lean man was standing there, looking in her direction. She even felt his gaze on her face. Eeriness started spreading inside her veins. She was not sure whether it was the faint contour of the man, or his unnerving stare that was freaking her out more. She shivered from her very core, partly because of the cold weather and partly because those flaming eyes; those eyes reminded her of the glowing eyes of the predatory nocturnal.

She blinked and found herself blinded after one more curt flash of thousand-watt glow. She was just trying to rub her eyes and squint through the insufficient light when she heard a creaking sound, followed by a thrash and a huge crash. Someone else was there in the shed, moving around wildly. She jumped from where she was standing and came out of the shed, ignoring the piercing raindrops on her body. The shade collapsed violently. She started running in the rain, clutching her handbag and her books tightly against her chest; her mind went blank.

The only place she could find to save herself was the lonely castle, where she saw the man standing. When she finally reached the porch she found herself standing alone, waiting for another incident to happen.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed. She could swear she'd seen someone here, but the place was as empty as a haunted house.

She started questioning herself. What was she thinking that she decided to seek refuge in here? She browsed her hand clumsily inside her handbag. From what she could remember, she had kept her cell phone securely inside the bag before walking out of the library. She took out the small handy phone and pressed the first button she could find, and she discovered there was no service.

"Now this is excellent," she declared and stood quietly.

Silent moments passed like an old slow motioned movie reel, no sound except the disturbing ones, no fast movements. It was as if every second had been elongated. She sighed, and-

What was that? She sprang on her feet and turned around. Did she just...

It happened again, now on her far left. She jumped and realized her heart was pounding so violently it could explode at any moment. But she was so helplessly distracted that she could not even try to calm it.

And it happened again, just behind her. Someone sighed deeply, making a mild humming from his throat, or maybe it was a muffled moan of pleasure. She was not certain; the only thing she was certain of was it was a man. She could smell his skin; it was an old musky smell she was breathing in and out.

She waited to listen for further movements, and heard the moan. He, the man she couldn't find, inhaled the smell of her body, her sweat and anxiety, her fears and her thoughts, and somehow projected his own feelings inside her.

She closed her eyes. Her skin became so sensitive; she could feel every tiny movement. The air was heavily intoxicated, she felt sluggish and inactive. She could feel different waves around herself, waves of energy, waves of emotions, waves of awareness... It was lethargic, hypnotic. The waves awakened the secret, lifelong desires she had suppressed, the desires that slept inside her like a sleeping dragon. Until today, she used to feel the heated breath of the dragon on her skin; she used to feel the tingles when its rough wild skin contacted hers.

The dragon was awakened today. Her breathing was heated, her skin was on fire. The dragon was seething, waiting to reach the ultimate vertex of its competency, waiting to scream its power.

She started walking with a languid gait, dropping her bag on the ground. She was not scared or cautious as she usually was. She walked inside the castle until her body commanded her to stop. She smiled lazily and closed her eyes, allowing herself to float weightlessly in the air. The waves came to life, amid stars exploding before her eyes. She floated in the waves like a small white feather, until she felt a soft touch on her back.

. . .

At the precise moment, somewhere across the town, Bonnie Kazan sat up in her bed in haste, her breathing shallow. Her eyes were widened from a sudden and unexpected shock, and she was coughing. She hurriedly climbed out of her bed and ran to switch on the lights in her room. Sweat had drenched her bed sheet. Bonnie reached out and shut the small hole her landlord called a window. She made a guess of the condition from the noise of thunder and heavy apocalyptic downpour outside. She sat quietly for a while in an armchair near her window, taking time to compose herself. Her nervous eyes scanned the room, searching for any abnormal sign. She found her bedroom immaculately clean, no stains of blood anywhere, no dust, nor any other soul intruding her space.

"It was a dream," she thought and sighed in relief. Of course it had been a dream, for there was no such possibility of her watching strangers making love soaking in blood, screaming out in pleasure on a creepy, dusty, deserted ground. She was positive it was a dream, yet the image of the girl naked with the man made her shudder. Her throat dried and eyes brimmed with tears.

The sudden arousal was too damn frustrating.

She was not frightened to admit that despite the gore of the scene she was vigorously aroused. The heat spreading in her cells were too imperious to ignore. The sight would appear as a haunting one if it was someone else. But Bonnie was writhing with the wetness between her legs, and she was shocked because this arousal was hundred times more compelling than what she had experienced in her short life.

And it was only a nightmare that woke her up in the middle of the night.

Ignoring the throbbing nub down in her body, she decided to go back to her sleep. She had to reach her workplace early the next morning.

Lying in her bed she closed her eyes again. Her hands, almost involuntarily, slid down her body. With a swift and steady pace she moved her fingers. The tension knotted in her lower belly started spreading through her veins. The urgency was out of her control. Before she knew anything else, a part of her, a shadow self, was back into her dream, where the girl was standing just in front of her, completely soaked. Her hair was drenched in the downpour, drops of water dripping off the short brown bundle of shoulder length silk. She stood in the hallway bewildered, completely incognizant of the thunderstorm outside while giving Bonnie a fair chance of observing her.

Bonnie sped up her fingers. The girl squinted through the semi darkness of the hallway. Her crème cotton trouser looked a shade darker and the red full sleeve blouse she wore, dampened from the shower, was clinging to her slim figure like her second skin. She could detect every line of her body and every curvature. She could see her chest heaving in a certain rhythm, and the slight arousal created by the frigid weather.

Panting raucously in her bed Bonnie felt the need to have a better look at the place.

And she was awestruck.

The hall was large and lofty, dimly lit with countless candles placed in an orderly fashion all over the place. Decorated in lavish wooden furnishings, the place smelled like old silk. A giant set of couches matching the old world charm occupied the whole of the western part, and a high table located awkwardly in the south. Lush red velvet cushions and red curtains looked fascinating with the furniture. Porcelain vases loaded with full bloomed roses were kept in high wooden tripods in the far corners of the hall. She shifted her sight to a marble sculpture in the corners that stood staring at her.

There was a low growl somewhere. She swiveled around and found herself alone. The girl was gone. How long had she been watching the décor? She swept her eyes all over the hall and found the room had no door. A window would do well too. She had special aptness on sneaking out through windows, however small it was. Her slender bodies and amble moves made her capable of stealthy acts.

The place had no doors and no windows!

Bonnie suddenly felt the tension twirling in her gut. A voice inside her head screamed she must leave; that she was not supposed to be in there. Bonnie tried to think hard, but she couldn't think clear through the hazy cloud of excitement in her body. She needed a release, but something was keeping her from it.

Her heart started pounding frantically. She took a short walk inside the hall and brought off a whisper of her dried throat after a long mute moment.

Something was uncommon about the air that pointed a finger to her warning to be quiet. As if it was against the rule of the house to make any noise. A tiniest sound may awaken the owners of this uncanny silence and that would bring a terrible end to them.

Carefully, Bonnie noted the hall and made a quick decision. She strode through the hall without making any sound and eyed every corner visible to her. She ambled across the furnished area and crossed behind the statue. The heat was getting unbearable with every breath she took.

She thought she heard something. She strained to hear it again. Some hushed tones, a muffled scream, and the next instant it was a moan. She bustled looking for the source of those noises.

She moved fast – which probably meant she moved her fingers fast in and out her wet cleft - wanting to waste no time. The smell of old silk turned into something she had never experienced before. It was a bit provocative, sweet and salty with a slight metallic sourness. Bonnie inhaled while running and felt dizzy. The smell increased her torment. She was trembling. She ran crossing one room after another – and added another finger, which felt really good. The passageway seemed never ending. She ran again and then...

Whatever it was, it was happening behind the shut door. She paused, panting hoarsely, and put her ear on the cool wooden door. There were some moans and restless pants. Someone chuckled; Bonnie shivered catching the powerful mannish voice. The girl's shy laugh followed the chuckle. It was too much. Bonnie slammed open the door, and...

A huge wave crushed over her. She could not stop herself from moaning loudly, her back arched.

It was the girl like she suspected. A man, a very powerful man, was holding her naked body in his arms while she sat on his lap, kissing and sucking every inch of her bare skin. Their limbs were entangled with each others, and their eyes were closed. The smell was coming from this room, from their entwined bodies, and there was a thick red substance straining the bed sheets. She took a wary step inside the room contemplating the couple and the strange red liquid surrounding them and instantly jumped back.

Thick red blood was seeping out of their bodies from a small slit in the man's chest and a small wound on her neck, and it was the scent of that warm coppery red blood permeating the room and the air of the whole place. Bonnie, in spite of the fierce release, finally realized what the metallic sourness was. She felt it in her own throat. She was sweating. She cupped her heavy breasts with feverish excitement, tugging and pinching the pink tout points. Her skin was on fire, and she felt her juices flowing down.

Another wave crushed her. She screamed. It was the scent in that room, the scent of the girl's blood, her sweat, and... her sex.

She breathed harshly, cursing the couple before her in a giant four-poster bed, exploring and playing with each other. She kissed the man's lips, his chest, and her wet mouth went further down with perfect, accomplished skill. The man let out a grumble from his throat, fisting her hair; Bonnie moaned with them in the shadows so that no one could see her or sense her. She watched the man in the dreary candlelight. He was in his late twenties, lean sculpted physique, dark raven hair, a pair of thin curved lips, and stains of blood on those lips. He licked his lips, and started kissing her. Bonnie imagined him kissing her throat instead of that petite girl, and his seductive pair of lips went down until they reached the crook of her neck. He licked the skin lusciously and covered it with his mouth.

Both Bonnie and the girl moaned again; this time it came from deep in her throat. She jerked violently, throwing back her head. She could not remember the last time she had so powerful an orgasm.

It was the careless moment of gasping and moaning when the man sensed her presence in the room, and he opened his eyes. He looked at Bonnie while holding the girl firmly in his grasp, as if he had been expecting her.

For a split second her eyes met his dark blue ice cold, eyes. Bonnie screamed as the last wave rushed through her, she felt the juices on her fingers. Her skin tingled; she felt drained.

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_**A/N: Thank you for reading. Don't forget to leave your reviews. **_


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